


How to say I love you (without actually saying it)

by Notquiteright



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Crowley's brilliant idea to confess via flowers, God is just fed up with these two, Idiots in Love, Language of Flowers, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), until he isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 09:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notquiteright/pseuds/Notquiteright
Summary: Figuring Aziraphale would never find out Crowley confesses his feelings through the language of flowers.Aziraphale naturally finds out.“Look I’m a florist. Flower meanings are kinda my thing. And that” she gestures at the plant in question. “is not uh, it’s.” she sighs and then decides to just rip the bandage off quickly instead of drawing this out any longer. “It means: ‘please notice my feelings for you’. Y’knowlove.”





	How to say I love you (without actually saying it)

**Author's Note:**

> This idea broke into my house held me at gunpoint and demanded to be written. Given that I should have been studying I obliged gratefully. Then I saw like, at least two different fics using the same trope posted just today and I was half-tempted to scrap this, but ah, the more the merrier I guess? :D

Aziraphale is wondering whether he should close up early1 when he hears someone enter the shop. 

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice calls out and Aziraphale tries not to feel too annoyed. He plasters on the politest smile that he can manage as he turns around and asks: “Can I help you?” in a tone that clearly implies that he would really rather not. Thankfully, the customer shakes her head with a bashful little laugh. 

“Goodness no, I’m just browsing. Don’t think my wallet could afford more than that.” she admits and Aziraphale brightens instantly. Well then. Jolly good. 

As the young woman starts wandering around, curiously peering at a book here and there Aziraphale watches her curiously. She is has a small built, with impossibly curly brown locks, many, _many_ freckles and big round glasses and the angel swears he hasn’t seen her around before. 

Yet he can’t shake some sort of nagging familiarity in the back of his mind. Perhaps she reminds her of someone he knew before; after all, when you’ve been among humans for 6000 years you have seen quite many faces, he muses. But that doesn’t seem right… 

“Oh how beautiful!” the woman exclaims, delighted, causing Aziraphale to abandon his train of thought. He follows her gaze and he finds that she is looking at the small pot of flowers perched on the windowsill. Aziraphale smiles without quite meaning to. 

“Oh yes.” he says, fondness dripping from his voice. “It was a gift.” the woman’s lips form a shocked little “oh” and Aziraphale frowns. “Why? Is something the matter dear?” 

“It’s just… I…” she stammers, a blush rising to her cheeks. “You… you do know that’s linaria bipartita?” 

It is? Aziraphale hasn’t really bothered to find out the name of the flower. He rather thinks it’s beautiful and well… it is a gift from Crowley. At the time he was a bit distracted by reining in some of his more errant thoughts (which seemed adamant to read too much into a simple friendly gesture) to inquire after species of the plant. It never occurred to him to ask afterwards. 

“I, well that’s certainly fascinating miss…” he prompts for a name and she smiles sheepishly. 

“Minnie.” 

“… Minnie, but I fail to see what could be so shocking about that.” Minnie worries her bottom lip. 

“I really shouldn’t… it’s not my place…” the poor girl looks so uncomfortable and Aziraphale honestly has no idea what’s causing her such distress. He glances back at the innocuous little flower, then back at the nervous customer and frowns. Minnie meanwhile seems to have made up her mind. 

“Look I’m a florist. Flower meanings are kinda my thing. And that” she gestures at the plant in question. “is not uh, it’s.” she sighs and then decides to just rip the bandage off quickly instead of drawing this out any longer. “It means: ‘please notice my feelings for you’. Y’know _love_.” 

Aziraphale opens his mouth and closes it. He immediately wants to correct her, _no it can’t be, he’s a demon, you have it all wrong_, like a knee-jerk reflex that kicks in whenever someone implies that his relationship with Crowley isn’t quite as hostile as hereditary enemies’ should be. He realizes with a start that he doesn’t have to do that anymore. He doesn’t have to fear retribution from Heaven or Hell if they get the wrong idea and surely, this _is_ the wrong idea. 

It’s absolutely ludicrous. Why, _why_ would Crowley confess his feelings through flowers? It’s a ridiculous notion. Absolutely out of the question. They were probably on sale. Or something. The demon most likely didn’t even know they meant anything. Yes, that’s it. He’d surely laugh if Aziraphale told him of it. Which he won’t do. Because the whole thing is absolutely ludicrous. 

“Sorry. I can see that I shouldn’t have done that.” Minnie winces and Aziraphale tries to give her an encouraging smile, even though his thoughts are a mile away. 2 

“Nonsense dear.” he waves off her concerns kindly. “It’s an interesting bit of trivia. However, it’s most likely a mere coincidence. But you best be off now. We’re about to close.” 

***

It does seem completely ludicrous to confess your love (6000 years of it) through a single flower, in a language the recipient isn’t familiar with. However, Crowley thinks it was a fairly brilliant plan. He gets to finally tell the angel how he feels without having to say it to his face and the best part is Aziraphale will never realize. It’s a foolproof plan, it’s _perfect_. 

Also, it wasn’t his idea. 

He might have been a bit drunk. Okay, a _lot_ drunk. After the Almost-apocalypse he had thought things would… change somehow. The world almost ended for someone’s sake! If that doesn’t spurn some “last minute love confessions” nothing would, right? 3

There is no Hell or Heaven breathing down their necks anymore either, surely that should count for something, right? 

Wrong. So very wrong. 

The thing is nothing changed and Crowley is quite convinced that if nothing changed _now_ it would never do. Hence the light4 drinking he has done. 

It’s _Pale Blue Eyes_ that does it. That blessed song starts playing and Crowley is sorely tempted to just miracle the radio to another channel even though he is pretty sure the owner of this fine establishment5 would notice.  He settles for groaning. 

“Not a fan I take it?” a brunette on his right asks with a teasing grin. 6 He mutters something along the lines of “ngk” and she raises an eyebrow. “Hits too close to home?” 

“Ngh.” 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” she orders another drink for him. “Cheers. Love is a bitch.” yeah Crowley can certainly agree with _that_. 

“Go too fast for him. What does that even mean?” further alcohol encourages him to say, his eyes getting a bit unfocused. Huh. Maybe he should sober up. But then, like the devil on a demon’s shoulder the brunette places another glass in front of him and well… If he should sober up maybe he should drink more. You know. Because he is a demon. And he shouldn’t do what he should do. 

(But if he should drink then shouldn’t he drink? Ugh.) 

“Unrequited?” his companion asks with a sympathetic frown and Crowley snorts. 

“You know I’m not even sure he _knows. _” 

“You haven’t told him?” 

“Yeah, yeah sure, because I just _love_ getting rejected” he snarks but the woman’s eyes suddenly light up with mischief. 

“I’ve got an idea. And just hear me out okay?” 

He does. And that’s how he finds himself in a flower shop, with a pot of linaria bipartita shoved into his hands. 

***

Aziraphale visits a flower shop too. Miraculously, it’s the very same one Minnie is working at. When he tells her what he wants she beams. 

In the end it’s quite simple really. If Crowley doesn’t know what the flowers he gave to Aziraphale are saying he won’t understand the reply either. If he does well…

Aziraphale will have his answers either way. 

***

Someone is knocking on Crowley’s door. Which. Is very odd. If it were Hell, they’d have let themselves in by now and Aziraphale… he stays over more often lately but he never appears unannounced. Crowley opens up the door cautiously, but his fears are unfounded. It _is_ Aziraphale, holding a small potted plant, with a tentative smile on his face. 

He looks nervous. Why does he look nervous? 

“Crowley. Hello.” he greets and the demon frowns imperceptibly. 

“Angel? I thought we were meeting at nine.” have their plans to dine at the Ritz changed? 

“We are” Aziraphale hastens to reassure him, before gently lifting the pot up and pushing it towards Crowley. “I just thought, seeing as you gave me a flower already, I should perhaps return the favor.” 

Crowley takes the flower in a sort of daze. One half of his brain is thrilled that the angel decided to give him a gift7 and the other half is paralyzed with the irrational fear that he figured out just what his flowers meant. Of course he wouldn’t know. It’s not like Aziraphale has a book entitled “Plant Symbolism 101: How to tell if your demon is in love with you” and Crowley is very well aware that he definitely couldn’t run a google search but…

And it’s that moment that he recognizes the flower given to him. It’s… it’s ambrosia. For a brief second all his cognitive processes screech to a painful halt before he can finally lift his head up to look at Aziraphale. At the undoubtedly pained expression on his face Aziraphale’s eyes fill with understanding and his features soften. The angel reaches out and Crowley hugs the pot close to his chest8 and with his now free hand holds Aziraphale’s. His skin burns in a way that has nothing to do with being holy, or damned. 

“Do you… angel do you mean it?” Crowley forces the words out and Aziraphale takes a step closer. So far, they have always been so far away. Different continents, different sides, always brushing never touching. And now… here they are. On the same side, breathing the same air, with the same nervous anticipation between them. 

“Always my dear.” Aziraphale says before closing the distance between them, finally, permanently. 

***

_Ambrosia_, Miniel shakes her head in amusement. _Love returned_. How very dramatic of them. 

“Is it done?” the Metatron asks in his sandpaper dry, solemn voice of his. Miniel nods. 

“I’ve done all I can. Forgive me” she bites her bottom lip in hesitation. “I mean no respect to the Almighty but may I ask, just why exactly was it so important that this particular demon and angel come together in a romantic way?” 

“You must never question the Almighty.” Metatron tells her haughtily then adds. “But in Her own words: She might have created an infinite universe but Her patience is certainly not limitless.” 

Miniel doesn’t have much time to ponder on the implications of such declaration since for the first time in nearly six millennia the angels hear Her voice once again as she cries out: 

#### WELL IT’S ABOUT TIME! 

  1. Early is a relative term. What Aziraphale deems as early closing most customers deem as “hold the fuck up, you literally opened twenty minutes ago and now you’re closing?! What kind of establishment are you even running???” [ ▲ ]
  2. Most of them are along the lines of “it’s ridiculous, _ridiculous_”, and while his mind is otherwise occupied his all too human heart is deviously plotting to escape his chest.  [ ▲ ]
  3. Crowley might have watched a few romantic dramas when he felt particularly rejected by Aziraphale. It wasn’t such a rare occurrence; the angel had a habit of pointing out their respective “damned” versus “holy” status quite frequently, further cementing Crowley’s already rock solid belief that YES, never ever telling the angel that he was pretty much in love with him from the moment “I gave it away!” left his lips is totally the best decision ever. [ ▲ ]
  4. Extensive  [ ▲ ]
  5. A bar that looks far more elegant when you’ve had a few drinks.  [ ▲ ]
  6. He doesn’t remember her being there before? How drunk _is_ he?  [ ▲ ]
  7. And it was settled then and there that he could never terrorize this particular plant.  [ ▲ ]
  8. He is _definitely_ not miracling that away yet.  [ ▲ ]

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Miniel is listed as the "angel invoked to induce love". It was too good an opportunity for me to pass up.


End file.
